MirrorWorld

It’s innocence. A complete lack of understanding of the danger I present. It merely regards me with interest. A baby, I realize, and then, a litter, as more heads rise. Dread or not, the rules of engagement still guide my hand, and I will not attack children. I have, in the course of my career, had my fair share of collateral damage. People get in the way sometimes. But the CIA is careful to avoid situations with children and would never actually target a child. Even secret agencies and assassins have standards. But what moves me most, when my eyes meet those of the Dread calves, is how they remind me of my son.

It’s no wonder these bulls are out of their minds trying to kill me. I’ve just invaded their home and put their children in danger. The trouble for them is that I’m just the start. If any of Lyons’s drugged-up Dread Squad get inside, they’ll kill everything. But this is war, and the Dread are ultimately responsible for what happens here today. They should have moved their young from this place. Even if they didn’t know Lyons had targeted this colony, they’ve been inside my head. They must have known that I would come when Maya’s tracker signal began transmitting.

Hopping from the edge of one nest to the next, I bounce through the alcove and leap toward the ruined wall. I’d like to say this is the old fearless Crazy shining through, but it’s really just desperation, hoping that whatever lies on the far side of this wall is less horrible than a horde of enraged, rhinoceros-sized parents.

The remains of the papery wall slap against me but provide little resistance as I plow through. When I see what lies on the other side, I shout in surprise, not because some horrible monster awaits me, but because I’ve jumped out over a twenty-five-foot drop.

It turns out that my fear of falling is misguided. As soon as my descent begins, it’s arrested. The bull, now clinging to the backside of the wall, has caught me. With a grunt, it slams me into the wall, once, twice, and then a third time, rattling my thoughts and snapping me into the past.

I’m with Lyons. It’s my first day with Neuro and he’s just told me his long-term game plan for the Dread. He’s looking for a way to repel them and end what he calls their “reign of terror.” Without their influence on mankind, he thinks wars will end, fear will dwindle on a vast scale, and global peace will be attainable. He speaks with energy bordering on frantic. Hungry. Unable to understand the subtlety of fear at the time, I missed the cues that this fight was personal for him. It always was. The “better world” scenario he presented me was simply justification for a vendetta that began during his childhood.

He asks my opinion.

“In my experience,” I say, “the only way to truly squelch a longtime enemy is to beat them into submission and then reverse the flow of influence. Post — World War Two Japan is a good example.”

His only response is a smile.

The memory fades as my body is jolted.

In the present, my new surroundings overshadow the surprise I feel about the World War II analogy, of which Lyons is so fond, which originated from me. I’m hanging sideways in the grasp of a bull as it lumbers down the tunnel on three limbs. Its grip is solid, my arms pinned by my sides. I’m stuck, and while the creature is moving in the right direction, I have no intention of reaching Maya as a prisoner. The sound of several sets of heavy footfalls tell me the bull is not alone. I open my eyes and confirm it. Bulls, pugs, and Medusa-hands. Too many to count. A mob of Dread is escorting me downward.

Seeing no other option, I pull what is becoming the oldest trick in my “How to Outwit and Outmaneuver Dread” book. The quick plan is to hop into my home dimension and, while the bull is distracted by my disappearance, return to the mirror dimension, push the mob back with a burst of raw fear, put a few Desert Eagle rounds into the nearest alcove wall to weaken it, and dive right on through. It’s insane. I recognize that, but it’s all I can come up with, so I go for it.

The plan falls to pieces the moment I put part 1 into action. I’m expecting moist but solid earth to hug and hold me in place. Instead, I get a raging torrent of flowing liquid. I’m yanked forward instead of stopping, spun around, slammed against hard stone, and lost in complete darkness. Near drowning, I reenter the mirror world, hoping to be tossed to the floor farther up the tunnel. But that’s not what happens.

When I enter the mirror world, I’m not deposited on or above the tunnel floor, I’m embedded in it. Half of my body is locked in stone. The other half, lying sideways, is left to flail. With my one free eye, I see the bulls snap to attention, snorting at my return. The closest of them raises its thick foot to stomp on me.